Not What You Seem
by sockospice
Summary: Randy Orton hasn't been himself recently. Chris Jericho wants to find out why. One shot slash fic.


Title: Not What You Seem  
Rating: PG 13  
Disclaimer: Don't own any of the characters mentioned herein, and make no implications about anyone mentioned, and no profit is made from this  
Content: Random swearing. Slash. Talk of blackmail. Sap, fluff.  
Pairing: Chris Jericho/Randy Orton  
Summary: Chris wants to know what's going on with Randy.

"What went wrong kid?"

Randy looked up from the locker room bench and smiled, "why do you persist in calling me kid when you're only a few years older than me yourself?"

"Dunno. Cos you're younger I suppose. Anyway, you didn't answer my question."

The younger man looked away, "I was trying to change the subject so I wouldn't have to."

"Na, you don't get off that easy, I want to know. What has happened to the Legend Killer?"

"Ran out of legends to kill?" Randy replied more in hope than genuine humour. Chris Jericho was the last man he wanted to discuss things with.

"Tell me Randy," Chris' face fell serious and he knelt down on the floor to be level with the young man. "We're friends, right?"

"Of course we're friends," he interrupted. That was precisely why he couldn't tell Chris.

"And I thought friends could talk to each other if there was something wrong." He put his hand on Randy's knee and squeezed it gently. "I'm worried about you. Whatever it is, it must be bad cos it's affecting your wrestling."

The young man silently cursed himself, "I didn't think it was that obvious."

"It is to me. Your actual in ring work is no different, but the focus you usually have isn't there."

Randy leant his head back on the cold tiles, trying to soothe the sudden pain that shot through his head. Chris saw him wince and was immediately worried.

"Is it the concussions? Are they worse than you've let on?"

"No… they're just concussions… it's just pain… I can handle it."

"Have you seen the trainer?"

"Yeah. I just need to rest, he says, take it easy for a few days."

"So why were you wrestling here tonight?"

"Cos I was booked?" Randy cocked his trademark grin in an attempt to lighten the situation.

"Well, why didn't you tell JR the concussion was bad? They wouldn't want to risk your health."

"I had no choice." That slipped out before Randy realised, and he looked away from Chris, hoping to avoid more questioning.

Chris picked up on this, and resolved to probe a little more deeply. He realised that now wasn't a good time though. He held out a hand and gently pulled Randy to his feet. "Come on, you're spending the evening with me. I'll run you a bath, grab a takeaway so that you don't have to worry about anything."

"I'm fine Chris, really," Randy craved the company, but he didn't want Chris to probe any further into what was going on.

"No way. I'm worried about you, and with a concussion you shouldn't be left on your own. I insist, now come on." In spite of protestations Chris grabbed Randy's bag and led him out of the locker room.

* * *

The bath was soothing, and Chris' company wasn't as bad as Randy had expected. He'd been concerned but not overly fussy, although Randy knew that whatever he did there was a careful eye on him.

He lay down on Chris' bed, staring up at the ceiling. He knew that Chris was expecting him to reveal more about what was troubling him. To be honest, he wasn't sure where to start though.

Chris must have noticed the confusion on his face. "It sometimes helps just to start at the beginning. Sometimes."

Randy took a few deep breaths to calm himself. "When I was a kid I was told that I'd never be a great wrestler… I'd never be as good as Dad, or my Grandfather… I worked past it though, and I thought I'd proved myself… I thought I'd done OK."

He looked over at Chris, expecting him to say something. Instead, the Canadian just offered a sympathetic smile and moved a little closer, taking his hand and squeezing it.

"Then… I found out there are certain…" Randy closed his eyes to try to conjure up the right word, "certain 'requirements' to being a major player here."

Chris just nodded, he'd been in the same situation so was well aware of what Hunter would try to pull.

"I said no… and lost the title. Which… I don't… I'm not ashamed of that because I'm not a whore. But it didn't stop my family telling me what they thought of me… not good enough… an embarrassment… and I realised I wasn't past it at all. It's still up here," he touched his forehead, "So I thought, maybe…I should do what Hunter said… I just couldn't though. I just… god, I thank Dave every day… he protected me somewhat… you know the price for joining Evolution was sucking Flair's cock… Dave, bless him… on the night I should have done it, he found me throwing up in the toilets… so we all went out and he got Ric so drunk he didn't remember anything… and told him that I'd done it. I'm not sure why he protected me like that… but thank god he did. It was only because of him that I lasted in Evolution for so long. Hunter was planning for me to leave as soon as I turned him down… and I think he wanted to humiliate me in the process."

Chris made a mental note to thank Dave too. He wasn't best of friends with Batista, but it seemed that he'd tried to protect Randy. And for that, Chris was grateful.

"So, anyway… after the first concussion… Hunter came to see me… he said that the bookers were considering putting me in the main event at Wrestlemania… because I'd had some good matches and because the fans seemed to like me… but I'd have to prove my commitment. When I asked how, he… somehow he knew that I was concussed, and he said if I could fight through that… that would be one way of doing it… but then I… got another concussion… and another… and I wanted to say no, I wanted to admit defeat… but that would prove my family right. All I want is for them to say they're proud of me… for me to achieve something that would make them love me… but maybe I'm not good enough, they're right."

Chris shook his head. Who'd have thought the cocky, confident legend killer would have such issues with his self esteem? The kid had tried to handle all of Hunter's power games bullshit on his own, where there were plenty of experienced wrestlers who had left the WWE, unable to handle them?

"Randy… when did you become such a good actor?"

The young man looked up, surprised at the seemingly random question.

Chris continued, "you've been portraying yourself as cocky, arrogant, confident… you carry yourself like you know full well you're the best in the world. Yet inside, you're naïve, nervous, and anything but confident."

Randy nodded, understanding now where Chris was coming from, "I guess it's all the acting in front of my family… pretending their words never hurt me. I got kind of good at it in the end."

"Well do me a favour, yeah?" Chris forced a smile that he could hardly call genuine, "next time something happens, don't try to deal with it on your own. We all know what Hunter's like… we all knew he had something to do with it… that's why Shawn was there with you last week."

"So… but why does anyone care?" He bit his lip nervously, the cocky smile a million miles away now.

"Because you're special, Jerky," now Chris looked nervous, although he tried to hide it, "ask anyone. I was worried that Hunter had done something bad to you… really fucked you over in some way… I've seen him do it before… that's why Jeff Hardy left. I just thank god he didn't force you into anything… that you had Dave there… that your concussions aren't a hell of a lot worse."

"I've had a lucky escape." There was a sense of wonderment and relief in Randy's voice.

"Maybe," Chris wasn't sure, "or maybe Hunter's made what was already bad worse. Do you honestly believe that you've let down your family?"

"Yeah."

"Then he has. He's made the legend killer even more insecure."

"They say those things for a reason Chris. If I deserved their praise, I'd get it."

Chris moved a little closer to Randy and touched his forehead, "will you ever let someone else in there? Would you ever believe me if I told you how special you are?"

"Why should I? If my own family don't think I'm special, why should you?"

"Because I have feelings for you. Simple as."

Randy's eyes widened. He hadn't really heard that correctly, had he?

"I know you think you're unlovable and everything, but I don't. I think you're special. And I think you have some sort of feelings for me too. Shawn… he said that you said my name when you were concussed last week."

Randy had hoped that Shawn hadn't noticed that, he only had a vague recollection of what he'd said. It was true though, he'd watched Chris from afar since he'd started, but had never seen himself as good enough for the blond.

"I've wanted you for the longest time," he whispered, "I just didn't think I was good enough for you… I don't think I am… you could do better."

"How?" Chris knew that building up self esteem was a long and difficult process, and that Randy would likely need some form of therapy to change what his family had done to him, but he was determined to start the process right now. "I just heard the hottest guy ever telling me that he liked me."

Randy sighed, "you're just saying that."

"Then maybe I should show you." Chris leaned forward and gently kissed Randy, allowing the younger man control and exploration, while at the same time trying to convey how he felt.

"Wow." That was about the only word Randy could manage after the kiss had broken.

"Randy, I wouldn't kiss you like that if I was lying about my feelings. Now, I want you to lie down on your front, I'm going to give you a massage." Chris was still aware that Randy was suffering, so planned to take care of him for the rest of the night, and hopefully, a lot longer than that.

"What have I done to deserve this Chris?" Randy asked softly.

"You've just been you kid." He placed a soft kiss on the nape of his neck. "I know you're special… and one day you will too."


End file.
